


Coffee and Tea and Moonlight Nostalgia

by danqueray



Category: Phandom/The Fantastic Foursome (YouTube RPF)
Genre: M/M, Plantboy!Phil, Spaceboy!Dan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-19
Updated: 2016-12-19
Packaged: 2018-09-09 18:10:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,568
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8906695
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danqueray/pseuds/danqueray
Summary: Dan Howell loves stars and books but it all changes when a man in mint-green overalls and an almost ghastly yellow shirt walks into the bookstore, and it seems as if Dan can’t avoid him.





	

The number four feels like home, and if Dan thinks hard enough every other number feels different. Twenty-four feels like he’s walking on thin ice, cracking beneath his feet as the snow falls on his woollen gloves and melts on his nose, and all he wants to do is sprint home.   
Fourteen is purple; dark and gloomy like houses stained with blood, and every nightmare it’s ever seen laced in the peeling walls. Two feels like ocean-blue topaz symphonies and each nostalgic melody Dan never wants to forget.   
Dan doesn’t like the dust that blankets the surface of the desk, but PJ tells him to leave it and he shouldn’t give it a second thought - but he does. When PJ finishes his shift and tells him not to touch the rosewood desk, he finds a paper towel and wipes it clean. The stockroom is overflowing and Dan has to wade through old and unloved books for the new stock. He finds it strange, people throwing books away, dead passages to unknown and hidden times. If time would permit, Dan Howell thinks he’d like to read every book in the shop, under glistening stars and the only source of light a string of almost-amber fairy lights and the moon. They’re almost amber because they hold flecks of gold and yellow and orange each time Dan looks at them, and he supposes he shouldn’t waste too much time thinking of the colours of the fairy lights on his tree in his front garden, but he finds himself more often than not wondering about insignificant things like the way the sun paints highlighter-coral and peach in the skies at six-am each morning, or the way that he can tell every constellation without reaching for his torn book on the uncut grass next to his side.

He eventually manages to place each book on the shelves after morning complaints that he hadn’t stocked them in time and they were urgently needed.

(Dan found out they weren’t needed that day and makes a cup of tea, something he thinks he only does to calm himself)

“Dan you need to stop reading this space shit.” PJ takes a sip of coffee before he places the mug too loudly on the desk, ringing in Dan’s ears with much distaste.

“You need to stop being such an arse.” Sometimes Dan hates having his best friend work with him. “Get back to work.” Dan grumbles, closing the book with a snap before he places it beside PJ’s coffee, a drink of which is too bitter for his own liking.

Dan’s in the corner focussed on a book when the bell above the door rings. He presumes it’s PJ going out to grab another coffee.

“Hi,” Dan doesn’t recognise the voice, erasing any thoughts it could be PJ. It’s northern, and Dan can’t say he doesn’t like it’s sound. “I was wondering if you had any books on flowers?”

“We got a load in today actually.” Dan catches a glimpse of the man, dirt lacing the tips of his fingers and under his nails, and Dan doesn’t think black hair suits pale skin but somehow it does and his eyes are like galaxies and all Dan wants to do is get to know this man.

“Is there anything I can help you with sir?” It comes out shaky as Dan places his book back on the shelf and walks over to the man, dressed in mint-green overalls and a yellow shirt. PJ’s snicker as he walks away doesn’t go unnoticed by Dan.

“I’m fine thank you- actually, do you know if you have the second volume to this? I can’t find it anywhere!” The man pulls out a book covered in pictures of flowers and Dan pretends he doesn’t see him blush as their hands brush.

“I’ll go and have a look for you, if not I’ll be sure to order it in.” Dan turns to the stockroom, mouthing a clear “fuck off” to PJ who doesn’t seem to be able to contain his laughter. The man with the flower poking out of the pocket of his overalls leaves the shop with the book in his hand, after thanking Dan profusely for his help.

“It’s no problem, have a wonderful day.” It’s an automatic response, drilled into him as soon as he served his first customer but he rarely cares. “I really mean it.”

Dan’s slightly disappointed when the man doesn’t show the next day, and he wants to smack PJ’s stupid grin off his face as he teases about the flower boy. It was a fleeting second but the blush on the man’s cheeks stain the walls of Dan’s mind throughout the day and after a while PJ stops asking why Dan starts smiling randomly.

“Why are you so infatuated with that flower boy?” Dan swats PJ’s arm as he blows a bubble from his chewing gum in his face.

“That’s gross, and I’m not.”

“Says the boy who was drawing flowers in his sketchbook today.”

“Shut up, I just like flowers okay?” PJ rolls his eyes, a smile toying at his lips as he blows another pink bubble.

“You’re such a fucking liar.”

-

Dan doesn’t know what prompts him to walk into the coffee shop next to the bookstore before work the following morning, but he knows for certain the barista somehow prompts him to choose a coffee out of nerves.

“I’ve never seen you around here.” Dan wants the ground to swallow him up whole as his eyes meet with the blue galaxies.

“It’s because I don’t like coffee.”

“You ordered one?” The man chuckles, and Dan has to force his eyes away from his smile. God that fucking smile.

“I-I don’t know why I did.” Dan feels a blush paint his cheeks.

“I can make you something else? A tea? Fruit ice?”

“Can I have a tea please?”

Dan Howell drinks tea when he needs to calm down and also when he’s nervous.

“Here you are-” The man lingers on the last word, prompting Dan for his name.

“Dan.”

“Dan.” The man tests it on his lips, sitting perfectly right and tasting like sugar. “I’m Phil.”

Dan feels stupid, because Phil’s nametag states his name quite clearly but of course he didn’t think of that, although he supposes nothing compares to his name tumbling from his tongue.

“Thank you.” Dan smiles and pays Phil, watching his fingers feather over his own before they’re quickly pulled away and the coins are placed in the till.

“Should I hope to see you again?” He pushes his glasses up the ridge of his nose.

Dan takes a sip of tea, one sugar with skimmed milk and he decides it tastes perfect. “Tomorrow. I don’t think I could go much longer without another cup of this.” He smiles, gaining a grin in response before he turns and walks out.

“Well hello Romeo.” PJ smirks, handing Dan a pile of glossy books.

“Shut up.” Dan places his tea down on the desk and snatches the books from PJ’s grip.

“Space boy eh?” He turns around to PJ holding his cup and reading the black ink in cursive on the side. “Who’s this? Your boyfriend? It’s a cute pet name.”

Dan’s learnt to ignore PJ throughout the years spent together, and quickly places each book on the shelves, resuming reading the novel from the other day. He eventually gets his tea, and by the time he does it’s lukewarm but it doesn’t taste too bad, although he shall be going for another tomorrow.

“Can you show me your Astronomy section?” Dan snaps his head to the direction of the desk, where Phil and PJ are standing.

“It’s in the corner, next to the Botanic section.” There’s an underlying chuckle laced in PJ’s words. Phil mutters a polite thank you before he makes his way to where Dan sits.

“Looking for anything in particular?” Dan folds the corner down of his page (he never understands why people fuss over it) and places it beside him.

“Any information on how moon patterns affect the growth of plants.” Phil bites his lip and Dan thinks he’s stupid for wanting to kiss him breathless.

“Can’t you use the internet?”

“I prefer books, holding actual information and words to me is quite beautiful for some strange reason.” Dan can’t argue, and more often than not is he reading a book or staring at the stars. He has a phone and a laptop, but they’re rarely touched as his bookshelves overflow with books old and new from novels to books on black holes.

“I think this one has some information.” Dan picks out a leather book and flips to a centre page, finger skimming each sentence before he finds the right one. “Here.”

Phil wonders if Dan’s read the whole shop, sitting after dark in a dim light as he reads book after book. He wonders what his mind’s like, if it’s like the patch of garden Phil can never tame but the longer he stares at it the more beautiful it becomes and soon he’s picking out daisies and dandelions from the grass and tying them into a circle to place on his head.

“Thought as much.” Phil hands Dan back the book, smile shy upon his lips as he clears his throat in a disgruntled cough.

“That all?” It’s almost a plea for him not to leave. “I mean if you need to go but-”

“I can stay.”

“You like flowers and plants then?” Dan sits back in the corner of the bookshop, on a red cushioned ledge and Phil on the blue pillows next to him.

“I do indeed, I’m guessing you like space?” He nods a reply, fingers fumbling with the grey loose threads on the sleeves of his jumper, pulled over both knuckles.

“It’s interesting, vast and colourful and just so beautiful.” Dan smiles, leaning back so his head hits the wood softly behind him.

“I guess plants are like that for me, I remember when I was five and my mum bought me a venus flytrap and I watered it every morning and it lasted for quite a few years surprisingly, me being five and all. When I was ten I got two cacti because if I’d have bought one the other would’ve been lonely- I don’t know why I just told you this.” He chuckles, thumbs twirling and Dan’s eyes soften.

“I don’t know why I ordered a coffee this morning but it’s okay.” The air isn’t awkward, and perhaps it’s the most comfortable either have ever been around someone.

“I should probably get home now, I’ve got to water my plants but I’ll see you tomorrow?” Phil’s eyes look almost desperate, desperate for Dan to see him again and how could Dan ever refuse?

“Of course, I always keep my word.”

-

It’s the middle of January and Dan doesn’t quite know why he didn’t wear his coat as he’s standing, waiting for the bus to arrive shivering and his cheeks and nose are frosty. He’s thankful the bus is heated, and even more so when there’s empty seats at the back. The bus drops him off a few hundred metres from the coffee shop, not far to walk in the chilly weather and he can’t help a smile pull at the corners of his lips when he steps inside the shop. He hates the taste of coffee, but finds the aroma alluring and thinks if coffee tasted like it smells then maybe, just maybe he’d drink it.

“Tea?” Phil smiles, writing Dan’s name and space boy on the cup in black ink before Dan nods. “Hope you don’t mind the name.”

“Not at all.” Dan has to rub his hands together to stop them shaking from the cold.

“Did you not bring a coat? Or gloves?” Phil frowns as he places a few leaves in a kettle of boiling water before letting it diffuse.

“Forgot.” He shrugs, sitting on the red leather stool in front of the counter.

“Have mine, your fingers will freeze.” Phil hands him pale blue gloves before he can protest, and Dan’s surprised at just exactly how soft they are. “And here’s your tea, hopefully it’ll warm you up.”

Dan wants to add “your smile does already” but he thinks it’ll sound creepier aloud than it does in his head, so instead he reciprocates the smile and takes a sip of tea.

He doesn’t quite know how many days he and Phil have met in the coffee shop, seven am sharp with sleep-laced eyes and lips upturned. He guesses it’s been around fifteen. Fifteen days sipping tea and giggling about stars and flowers and morning sunsets and if the clouds in the sky are perhaps dense - somehow - they’d love to reach the stars and watch each alien fly past as they’re sat on one.

“You in a rush today?” Phil asks, making a cappuccino for himself and leans against the glossy worktop.

“Not particularly, PJ’s on early today so I can come in whenever.” He takes another sip, letting his eyes flutter softly closed.

Phil wants to tell Dan how ethereal he looks. As if he’s the most beautiful flower in the garden of many, one Phil can’t help but stare at and want to cherish.

“Sometimes I wonder if the universe is truly infinite, if it has a point light-years beyond our reach where everything vanishes and you’re left almost in the remnants of a black hole. It seems strange the universe can go on forever with no boundaries, I’m not sure if I fully believe it if I’m honest.”

“It could do.” Phil brings the coffee to his lips, burning them slightly in the process before he places it back down next to Dan’s tea.

“Stars or nebulae?” He asks after a moment of silence.

“What? Which I prefer?” Phil nods. “Well I guess nebulae are some of the most beautiful things I’ve ever seen, funny to think they’re just clouds of gas. Although stars are things which I’ve always loved, I guess I can’t compare the two.” Dan takes a final sip of his tea before he starts. “Do you have a favourite flower? Or plant?”

“Convallaria majalis - the Lily of the Valley, or perhaps white foxgloves. They’re both beautiful really, as for general plants? Well I love many.” Dan doesn’t know why he’s talking to Phil about the universe or convallia maj- whatever they’re called. He does however like it, and by the time customers pile into the shop Dan’s forty-five minutes late.

“I should probably go, I’m quite late.” Dan takes the second tea Phil made for him with a shy giggle and waves goodbye.

He walks into the bookshop, faced with an angry PJ.

“You’re almost fifty minutes late.” He spits, almost throwing a pile of used books at him. Dan winces as one tumbles to the ground, beige corner giving way on impact.

“You can leave I’ll run the shop myself.” Dan’s sure PJ’s mood isn’t entirely his fault, and perhaps sending him home would be better for both of them. “There’s no point in both of us working today anyway, it’s never exactly busy.”

Without much persuasion PJ leaves, slamming the door behind him and Dan almost feels sorry for the wooden door as it shakes in the aftermath.

“Stupid fucking PJ ruining my mood.” Dan slumps in the chair behind the desk, letting his head rest in the palms of his hands.

“Excuse me I was wondering-” Dan snaps his head up meeting a smiling Phil.

“Can I help you?” Dan giggles, suddenly tongue-tied and bashful.

“Forgot to ask a certain space boy this morning if he had a phone, of which would he perhaps want to donate his number to a poor old flower boy?”

“Of course.” Dan pulls out his phone with a shy smile and unlocks it, handing it to Phil to type his own as Phil hands him his.

Dan giggles at Phil’s name in his phone, flower boy followed by a flower and a red heart and Dan wonders perhaps if Phil would want to get to know him as much he wants to understand the enigma that is Phil.

“I’ll see you around yeah?” It’s less of a question and more of a promise, promising they’ll meet again and maybe, just maybe, Dan will gather the courage to find out more about the boy who loves plants and flowers as much as coffee.

-

 

The next day is a Sunday, meaning the bookstore’s closed and Dan relishes in the morning glow before he falls asleep at midday. Sunday’s are dark and midnight-blue and constellations strung around his room, and he finds it strange that despite his love of the stars, every flower in his garden starts to catch his eye and soon he’s mumbling each name under his breath; tulips, petunias, snowdrops. The garden isn’t particularly neat, nor is it messy, with just the right amount of weeds to be called overgrown but the grass is cut and the flowers bloom so Dan thinks it’s okay, it has to be.

He doesn’t particularly spend time outside, but when Phil asks him to join him at the park he can’t exactly refuse. He scoffs at the mere thought it might be a date, because they’ve just met and surely Phil can’t think of his as anything other than acquaintance, can he? Dan doesn’t know why he’s even thinking of what if’s, and by the time he reaches the park with a blanket in hand and a smile upon his face the idea of a date is long forgotten and left in his front yard, by the tree with fairy lights in frosted glass.

 

“I brought you a tea, I didn’t know if you wanted one or not.”

“A tea is lovely.” Dan starts to wonder if he only drinks tea around Phil, as he has noticed he’s stopped making it when he’s angry or nervous. “I didn’t know if the grass was damp or not.” Dan spreads the red tartan blanket on the soft grass, pulling Phil down to sit next to him.

“You look like the stars.” Dan studies Phil’s features with a mug in his hand.

“I what?!” Phil throws his head back and Dan doesn’t think he’s ever seen someone so beautiful, laughing so raw and it’s like the crinkles in his eyes are the threads of the sun and moon and he doesn’t know if he can last much longer.

“You do, your freckles are like clusters of stars or constellations- or something” He giggles softly before taking a sip of his hot tea. “And your eyes are like supernova with blue and green and yellow and-” His voice falls to a soft whisper before a blush stains his cheeks in crimson lace and his eyes fix to the tips of his fingers precariously holding the paper cup.

Phil doesn’t quite know how to reply, but it’s okay because he takes Dan’s hand in his and suddenly it all feels right.

“Anyway,” Dan pulls away, slightly flustered and his voice masks any emotion possible. “Why did you want to see me?”

“I want to get to know you properly I guess, y'know not just at seven-am with the worry of work.” He shrugs, sipping his hot coffee eyes falling to a lone daisy in the grass. Dan giggles before he lays on the blanket, wrapping the side around him to warm him slightly. “You’re cold? Do you want my jacket?” Dan shakes his head, closing his eyes before patting for Phil to join him.

“Stars make me think, really they’re just distant balls of plasma but we think of them as gorgeous lights, compare them to strings of fairy lights bordering windows and encasing bedframes and write poems on how they twinkle in others eyes. I guess there’s just something really beautiful about how we perceive them, because we don’t deem plasma as beautiful as stars are, and it’s strange to think we can’t think of ourselves like that.”

“I find we’re like flowers, each made all the same but with different quirks and it’s as if we pick the beautiful ones to put on display on tv and in magazines or in jars on a windowsill, making the other flowers feel insecure because why can’t they be beautiful too? Why can’t their petals be perfect and not bear scars and grazes? And why can’t their leaves and stems be without thorns and prickles? But they are beautiful, every flower is unique and each has differences and flaws but it’s what makes them special; stand out from the rest. That’s why when I pick flowers I never pick the most beautiful, but the ones that may have a few thorns or the petals may be slightly ripped because they have more of a story to tell.”

“You have a way with words flower boy, do you write?” Phil shakes his head, not that Dan can see as his eyes are fluttered shut.

“No.”

“You should.”

“I prefer to read, it’s like a brief glance into the author’s mind through an open window.” Dan rolls over, face to Phil’s and he fights the urge to bring his hand to his cheek and ask him the workings of his wonderful mind.

It starts to get dark, Dan’s eyes opening as the stars appear and the moon lights the midnight-blue sky.

“See that constellation over there?” Dan points to a cluster of stars just above a house. Phil nods, wrapping his corner of the blanket around himself as he shuffles closer to Dan. “It’s the plough, part of Ursa Major which is known as The Great Bear.”

“You remind me of a bear.” Phil closes his eyes, letting his head rest slightly in the crook of Dan’s neck.

“It’s probably my favourite constellation, it’s quite near Leo as well which is the Lion and quite a beautiful one if you imagine the lion and how strong it is.”

“Lions are my favourite animals.” Sleep suddenly hits Phil and his words are mumbled and barely coherent.

“Are you far from your house?” Dan pushes back a strand of ebony hair that falls in front of his eyes. He nods in response, and in the dim light he’s thankful Dan can’t see the blush rising on his cheeks as Dan’s fingers feather on his forehead.   
“Mine’s a few minutes away, and you’re tired. You can stay the night if you’d like?”

“Only if it’s no bother.”

“It’s not, you’re not a bother at all - in fact I quite like company.”

Phil smiles although Dan can’t see it under the soft glow of the moon and stars, and soon they’re both sitting up, shivering as Dan extends his hand to help a sleepy flower boy to his feet. He never lets go.

“It’s really cold.” Phil can’t help but look at their laced hands, smiling as he does so because maybe, just maybe he won’t be so alone.

“We’re nearly at mine, I have lots of blankets that’ll hopefully warm you.”

“Thank you for this Dan.” Their gazes meet and under the yellow-orange glow of the streetlamps lining the path, it seems as if time stopped altogether and the only motion is their breathing, spiralling in white curls that melt into the sky.

Dan boils the kettle as Phil changes into the leggings and t-shirt Dan leant him, covered in every constellation imaginable and planet in the solar system and when Phil looks in the mirror he can’t help giggle as it doesn’t look quite right but it looks perfect all the same.

“I should start calling you a space flower, you quite suit planets.” Dan giggles, handing Phil a decaffeinated coffee with extra sugar, just how he likes it. “Now get some sleep, you can stay in my bed I don’t mind sleeping on the couch.” Phil shakes his head, but before he can protest Dan’s ushering him into his room.

“But your back will hurt in the morning, you’re not exactly short.” He yawns as he sets the mug of coffee on the bedside table, sitting on the bed with a soft thud. “I can stay there if you’d like, or you can sleep in your bed as well, I won’t mind.”

Dan rubs his eyes, concluding that actual sleep sounds far better than a restless night and that the warmth of Phil certainly wouldn’t be much of a problem, in fact quite welcome on the cold evening.

“Okay, only if you’re alright with it.”

“I’m fine.” He smiles in reassurance and it’s not long before Dan’s stripped down to his boxers and t-shirt and climbs in beside him. Soon Phil’s gentle snores fill the room, and Dan whispers “you’re beautiful” so quietly he’s not too sure if the words tumbled from his lips or if they got stuck in his throat like the pink chewing gum PJ chews almost every day.

-

Dan likes to watch the rain patter against the store windows as he reads. They barely sell when it rains, no one sharing Dan’s passion with books and the stars, and even PJ has resorted to his phone.

“Lover boy, how was last night?” PJ stumbles over a pile of books as he skips over to Dan, placing his book next to him as he helps his friend up with a giggle.

“I’m not a lover boy and Phil got tired and his flat was ten minutes away so I said he could stay at mine.” Dan rolls his eyes as a smirk tugs at PJ’s lips and soon he’s pushed Dan back to his seat.

“Did you have sex?”

“Why are you so obsessed with sex? No we didn’t. We went to the park and looked at the stars and he was tired, end of story.” Dan’s nose is once again in his novel although he can’t focus as PJ burns holes in his skull.

“So it was a date?”

“No it wasn’t.” He states matter-of-factly and shoves his friend away.

“Sure, because you platonically look at the stars and sleep in the same bed. Don’t worry Danny I won’t tell anyone.” He turns and walks back to the desk, hips swaying and a string of chuckles leaving a trail behind him.

“I don’t even know why you’re my fucking friend, you’re such a twat.” Dan huffs, closing the book before he places it back in the second-hand section, or as Dan named it “loved” because he thinks everything deserves to be loved time and time again, and one day perhaps each book will be read time and time again and tucked in a shelf, just like settling down with the person whom you cherish most.

The rain stops by the time Dan finishes and he’s quite thankful he doesn’t have to walk in the rain to the bus stop. He peaks in the coffee shop next door, seeing no sign of Phil and feels deflated, pinning it down to the days work but in the back of mind it’s not that at all. He finds it strange - the boy with galaxies for eyes and black holes in each thread of hair, skin as pale as the stars that glow in the dark night makes him feel something, although he’s not quite sure what exactly. He aches to run his fingers through his hair and whisper sweet nothings in his ear, lips touching in soft symphonies of mouths parting and breathless whimpers. He wants to hold his hand and kiss the tips of his fingers, thread flowers through his hair all the while drinking tea under the stars.

(He found out last night Phil doesn’t particularly like coffee, unless Dan makes it with extra sugar and then he says it’s his favourite drink.)

To Space Boy:

I was wondering if you wanted to go out somewhere?

 

To Flower Boy:

Sure, where to?

 

To Space Boy:

Lunch? Or a movie or the park again or something?

 

To Flower Boy:

Sounds great

Dan spends far too long getting ready, each strand of hair straightened and his fingers fumble with the belt. Something tells him it’s not quite as platonic as he thinks, and he makes sure to wear his best shoes just in case. He hasn’t seen Phil for a week, seven days and he’s sure it’s not particularly healthy to have been counting but each flash of ebony hair or almost porcelain skin sends his heart twisting and he aches for it to be Phil.

“Dan!” Phil waves as he sees Dan walk into the cafe. It’s small, but somehow Phil managed to grab the table in the corner secluded from the rest of the shop and prying eyes.

“Hi.” He smiles, getting lost in the galaxies of Phil’s eyes, supernova he just never wants to leave.

“I haven’t ordered yet, there’s the menu if you want something.” Phil hands Dan the menu, eyes fluttering from his eyes to his lips to his hands, an action surprisingly unnoticed by Dan. “I’ll pay by the way, to say thank you for the other night.”

“Don’t be silly, I didn’t mind at all.” Both their cheeks are tainted crimson as they silently remember waking up in each other’s arms, Dan’s head resting on Phil’s chest and his arm limp draped over the curve of his waist, and their fingers intertwined.

“Would you like a drink?” Phil breaks the silence between them, atmosphere thick like molasses and syrup and they’re not quite sure if it will ever shift.

“I’d love a lemonade if that’s alright?”

“I’ll have one too.”

“You’re saying you’ve never actually had a friend?” Dan’s eyes are wide in disbelief because who couldn’t love the man who talks to flowers when they’re lonely?

“Not one, must be my weirdness.”

“You’re hardly weird, and consider me your first.” Phil doesn’t know if it’s normal to want to kiss your friend. Of course he’s had crushes, but nothing has quite ever felt like Dan.

“Thank you.”

“Don’t be silly, and eat your soup it’ll get cold.” Phil giggles as Dan pushes his bowl closer, prompting him to eat his soup and enjoy it.

“Can I show you something after this?” Phil takes the last mouthful of soup before he pushes it to the side and takes a sip from his lemonade.

“Of course, what is it?”

“My garden.” Dan feels quite special, because Phil says he’s never let anyone see his garden, not even his brother or his parents and Dan’s not entirely sure if he’s worthy.

“Have you ever fallen in love?” Dan asks, idly chewing on the green straw.

“I’m not sure really, what’s love supposed to feel like?”

“I don’t actually know,” Dan’s surprised he can’t articulate the emotion, but how can you condense something as beautiful as love into mere words? “I guess your heart races and you get shy but you want that person to be yours forever and you would do anything to protect them. Although it’s not that simple.”

“Sounds confusing.”

“Believe me it is.” Dan sighs, eyes sinking to his plate with five crumbs, counting each one until he’s counted them twenty-three times.

“But nice, I guess it wouldn’t be a bad thing.” Phil assures, and Dan doesn’t quite know why but Phil makes him feel like home. 

Phil takes Dan’s hand, leading him to the gate and tells him to close his eyes.

“I hope you’re not going to let me walk into a tree.” Dan says with a chuckle.

“Trust me I’d never do that. Now one, two, three, open.” Phil lets go of Dan’s hand, instead bringing it to his cheek. “Do you like it?” Dan has to fight a blush, words failing him and all he can do is simply nod. “These are convallaria majalis, I find the Latin more beautiful than the Lily of the Valley.” He quickly pulls away, kneeling down and pointing to white flowers in a stone flowerpot. “They’re poisonous and although I don’t think you can die from touching it, I still don’t want to run the risk.” He chuckles, clipping a white rose with the blue clippers next to the bench, and picking a single daisy from the grass.

“Do you know the meanings of flowers?” Dan asks as Phil tucks the rose and daisy behind his ear, making sure no bugs hide in the petals. They both have to fight not to get lost in the others’ eyes, or kiss each other’s lips until they’re both red-faced like the cherry roses and breathless.

“Yes.” He blushes hoping Dan doesn’t ask further because Phil’s hopeless at lying and how can he tell Dan a white rose means innocent love and a daisy symbolises beauty? Surprisingly Dan doesn’t, and Phil’s more than thankful.

“Your garden is beautiful.” Dan has to bite his tongue to stop the words “just like you” from rolling off the tip of his tongue.

“Thank you, I spend as often as I can in it.” He holds his front door open for Dan, closing it behind them and Dan doesn’t realise quite how cold it is outside until he’s enveloped in the warmth of Phil’s flat. “Would you like a tea or a cold drink?”

“I’m okay thank you.”

“Would you like to watch something on tv? I have the X Files if you want to watch that?” Dan nods; smiling as Phil tells him to sit down and that it’s only a click of a button, and he’ll grab some snacks and drinks just in case. “I have a blanket because it can get chilly.” Phil sits next to Dan, draping the blanket over both of them before Dan presses play. The curtains are never drawn and by the time the finish three episodes the sky turns black and clouds blanket the stars.

“You really do have stars in your eyes Phil.” Dan’s face is two inches away from Phil’s, fingers feather-light on his cheek. “Can I say something stupid?” Phil nods, the corners of his lips twitching into an almost-smile although it’s hard to tell in the pale moonlight shining through the window. “I think you’re really beautiful.” It’s a hushed whisper and neither knows who instigated it because before long their lips are soft against each other’s. Dan’s back hits the sofa and Phil’s on top, lips never parting and it’s so sweet and they taste like sugar from the caramel popcorn and lemonade and tea and it feels perfect. Their legs are tangled and Dan’s hand threads Phil’s hair, Phil’s cupping his cheeks and holding his other, wormed in between them.

They pull away for air, Phil’s lips ghosting over Dan’s less than an inch away before he presses another soft kiss to his lips.

“I think you’re really beautiful too.” Phil tucks a curl behind Dan’s ear, pulling the blanket over them as they kiss to a soft symphony. 

-

“What does that star say?” Phil pulls his duvet up to their chins, back hitting the soft grass. He doesn’t quite know why his heart still flutters and his lips never fail to curl into a smile as he watches Dan stare at the stars after a few weeks of kisses and laughter and thoughts of “are we together?” but it does nonetheless and he’s not sure if he ever wants the feeling to stop.

"It says I like you very much.”

“It does not.”

“It does.” Dan presses his lips to Phil, smiling into the gentle kiss and they both can quite believe it’s happening. He thinks it’s strange because Phil’s lips feel so right on his and it’s as if they were made in the stars and his fingers were moulded from moonbeams.

“Can I take you on a date? Like a proper one?” Phil doesn’t know how Dan can be so beautiful, as if every other face is merely there and Dan’s holds the world, the most beautiful flower not a patch on him.

“If you’d like to, although don’t think you have to.”

“I want to, and I want to make you feel special.” Phil pulls Dan close, head resting on his chest as his fingers toy with this chestnut hair, lulling him to tiredness.

“Thank you.” It’s mumbled against the fabric of his shirt Phil’s not sure if his heart can beat any faster.

“Your house is too far away.” Phil sits up and rubs his eyes, Dan’s arms wrapped around his waist tightly.

“S'okay I can walk.”

“My way of asking if perhaps you’d stay with me, would you?” Dan doesn’t need to be asked twice, lifting his head and eyes shining under the glow of the moon as Phil pushes his fringe back, placing a gentle kiss to his forehead.

“Of course, I’d love to.”

Phil realises Dan’s hands are softer than usual, and he can’t quite help but bring them to his lips and kiss his fingertips. Dan blushes in response, giggles tumbling from parted lips before he pecks the tip of Phil’s nose as their arms swing, fingers laced together.

“The garden doesn’t look as nice at night.” Phil pouts, although Dan runs up straight to the tree in front and bites his lip.

“You could do with some fairy lights, and some cushions on your bench.” He yawns, Phil’s hands clasping in front of his stomach as his chin rests on his shoulder.

“That’d look nice, not as nice as you though.” Dan wants to roll his eyes, but a smile fights his pursed lips and soon he’s giggling along with Phil, mumbling how utterly cheesy but perfect he is. “Come on space boy, you’ll get cold.” The crunch of pebbles beneath their feet is decidedly louder in the early hours of the morning, owls hooting the only sounds above their breathing.

“Can I kiss you again?” Dan asks shyly once they’re in Phil’s flat, back pressed against his bedroom door.

“Please do.” He steps closer, hand cupping Dan’s cheek before their eyes flutter closed, lips colliding like nebulae and supernova and all they’re focussed on is the sweet taste of their lips and the other’s mouth moving against theirs with a steady rhythm, melodic and soothing and they don’t ever want to break away. “I never thought kissing would be so-” Phil’s breathless, words falling from his mind like shooting stars and mahogany leaves in the autumn.

“It’s usually nothing compared to with you.” He answers in a hushed whisper, Phil pulling away before taking of his shirt and jeans and throwing back the covers. Dan follows, clad in his dark grey boxers as he slips in beside Phil. An arm is idly draped over his stomach, lips within reach and Phil can’t help but tangle a hand in Dan’s curls. They’re unashamed of this, close and it’s as if the universe is withheld in Phil and Dan can’t pull away, and every flower blooms in the depths of Dan’s mind and Phil wants to explore each crevice and touch every petal.

“G'night.” Phil can tell Dan’s almost asleep, words barely audible and muttered under emerald leaves and daisy petals.

“Good night Dan.” A last kiss his placed on his head before they both drift off into a peaceful sleep, neither stirring once and perhaps it’s being wrapped in each other’s arms, safe from the world and it’s taunts.

-

PJ doesn’t shut up about the flower boy, pestering Dan throughout the day as to why he spotted them holding hands.

“I like him, he likes me, get over it. What are you? Twelve? It’s been like this for over month now.” Dan steps on the small ladder to reach the top of the bookshelf.

“So you’re dating?”

“Hmm I guess so.” He shrugs as best he can balancing on a ladder, holding onto PJ’s shoulder as support on the way down.

“He’s nice?” PJ narrows his eyes as Dan picks up another pile of books.

“Why do you even care?” He wants to retort with “of course he’s nice, I love him” but even he’s not sure of that confession, or maybe he’s just scared.

“I’m your best friend, I’m not going to let some boy who is obsessed with plants love you if he’s not the best to you, I don’t care if he’s hot.” Dan mumbles a small thank you and a small growl and the confession that PJ finds him attractive, before the bell on the door rings and perhaps the person Dan least expects to walk through the door appears.

“Hi Phil!” He stumbles over a few books on the floor, but makes his way over relatively unharmed.

“Hey, I was wondering, what’s your favourite food?” Dan raises his eyebrow, slyly glancing at PJ who just giggles.

“Erm anything that doesn’t include mushrooms really, they taste weird and it’s like eating a sponge.”

“Okay, no mushrooms it is! Oh, and are you free tonight?” His face falls and suddenly it’s as if he’s reaching out, desperate to read any emotion on Dan’s face.

“Of course I am.” Although Dan doesn’t seem to be able to wipe the confusion off his face.

“Can you come over at around six?” Dan nods, lips curling into a wide grin and Phil has to stop himself kissing his dimples with PJ watching. “I’ll see you then.” He leaves, but not before a soft kiss initiated by Dan and he’s left feeling slightly giddy.

“He’s making you dinner? Oh my fucking god Dan you’re so lucky, he’s definitely perfect for you.” PJ chuckles, standing up from the chair and winks as he brushes past a very awestruck Dan.

-

Dan likes to think he’s okay with nerves, but somehow they’re seeming to eat him alive and by the time he knocks on the door at Phil’s he’s already wiped a thin layer of sweat of his forehead.

“Come in.” He places a gentle, welcoming kiss upon Dan’s lips, the brunet blushing as he walks in the door.

“So what’s all this then my flower boy?”

“I said I’d take you on a date but I thought why not cook you something and have it here so it’s not too crowded because you said you hated places with too much people.” Dan’s surprised Phil remembers that, and even more so he willingly cooked him a meal.

“Thank you.” It’s a mumbled whisper against lips, his arms wrapped around his neck as Phil’s are around his waist and everything seems so perfect and dreamlike - they’re not sure if they ever want to wake up.

“I also picked some flowers from my garden for you, I had a few roses which I thought looked nice so-” He pulls away, handing Dan a bunch of roses neatly wrapped in cellophane and ribbon and he’s quite sure Phil at some point was a florist.

“These are absolutely gorgeous.” He places the roses on the counter; careful to hide them away from anything Phil was in the process of making. “So what have you made us?” Dan makes an effort to bite his lip, eyes slowly tracing each feature of Phil.

“Spaghetti, it’s cheesy I know but it’s the only thing I’m really good at so it’s what we’re having.” Phil’s eyes divert from Dan’s as he notices his teasing, chuckling weakly as he stirs the sauce in the pot. “I’d stop that if I were you.” It’s a low whisper, one that Dan could quite easily take as a challenge but decides against it.

“You look really nice.” He says instead, fingers feathering over Phil’s green button-up, flowers sewn in the fabric.

“As do you Dan,” Phil smiles and turns to Dan, fingers holding his chin for a chaste kiss. “You always do though.”

Dan’s never been one for romance, but with Phil it comes so effortlessly and as Phil sits down at the table, Dan’s twirled some pasta around his fork.

“Open up.” His chin rests on the palm on his hand as a smile plays at his lips. Phil obliges, and neither can stop the giggles as Dan narrowly misses Phil’s mouth, Bolognese sauce in streaks from his cheek to his lips. “Sorry.” The brunet’s eyes soften and he stifles a nervous giggle.

“It’s okay, honestly it’s fine.” Phil’s hand is on his and Dan doesn’t realise his heart is speeding up and all he wants to do is tell Phil he loves him because my god does he. He’s so in love that each morning he sees blue galaxies and nebulae with yellow and green and white and black holes and the palest moon. Each waking hour he aches to have Phil in his arms and kiss his lips until their swollen and bitten and thread his fingers through his hair that Dan envies because it’s always so perfect, but then again Phil Lester is so perfect.

“Phil, I-” He swallows the words on the tip of his tongue and perhaps it’s too early, perhaps merely knowing each other for the same amount of weeks Dan has crayons by his bed isn’t enough to know if it’s love. Dan’s fallen in love before, but perhaps not quite as hard as this and it’s almost desperate how he wants to feel Phil beneath him and tangled up every night, soft snores as he wakes up. It’s such desperation and desire that Dan’s sure is dangerous but he can’t lose Phil, not now.   
“I think I love you.”

“I think I love you too.”

\- 

Dan visits the coffee shop on Friday’s first thing, and when the first customer walks in Phil greets them with a smile and a “good morning”.

Phil spends Tuesday afternoons lazily in the bookshop, hidden under blankets and sometimes if PJ’s not there they close the store early and hide in the stockroom. (Dan’s since cleaned it out, lining it with pillows and blankets and more often than not is he lying down with Phil on top of him kissing until their breaths become shallow and they’re panting.)

Today is one of those afternoons, late April and Dan’s lit four lanterns in the small space, one for each corner.

“It’s still quite cold.” Phil snuggles under a blanket, shivering lightly.

“The heating’s broken love, sorry.”

“Not your fault, just come and hug me.” Dan rolls his eyes, pushing the pile of new books to the side as he flops down next to Phil.

“You’re so needy.”

“It’s because you’re my teddy bear and I love you.”

“Good job I love you too.” Dan nuzzles into Phil’s shoulder, peppering kisses down his neck and Phil can’t help but giggle. “I was thinking,” He starts, fingers lacing with Phil’s. “We’ve been together a few months and-” He’s not quite sure how to ask, or if Phil’s even ready.

“And?” Phil pushes his glasses up the bridge of his nose.

“We’ve really only ever gone as far as kissing, and the odd y'know-” A blush stains his cheeks as his voice falters and he doesn’t dare to look at Phil.

“Would you like to? I’m perfectly happy to if you’d like to.” Dan had always been the shy one, easily embarrassed and Phil can’t say he doesn’t find it endearing.

“Can we?”

“Of course we can.” His thumb rubs circles over the back of Dan’s hand as his head rests on Dan’s.

“I really love you.”

“I love you too Dan.”

-

It’s as if Dan’s the rarest china and Phil doesn’t want to break him, fingers fluttering down his chest and lips soft against his own. Each touch burns and Dan doesn’t think he’s ever wanted something so badly.

“Phil.” He whispers his name as Phil’s tongue and teeth make nebulae and supernova on his neck and clavicle and each constellation on his body is kissed and touched and Dan doesn’t think he’s ever felt so alive. He looks at him with cheeks tainted crimson like rose petunias through heavy lids and lustful eyes. “Don’t stop.”

“I won’t, you’re such a beautiful flower Dan.” He presses another black hole onto his skin, teeth soft and tongue soothing. “My favourite.”

His fingers trace vines down his chest and stomach, as if ivy threads his fingertips and leaves a trail of thorns behind in the form of goose bumps and shivers and pleads. Phil’s quick to rid Dan of his black jeans, slow past his thighs and with each soft touch Dan’s left shaking and writhing beneath him.

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You won’t, I trust you.” Dan manages Phil’s jeans in the dim light of the moon and glow of the stars shining through Dan’s window, pulling them down with little effort and soon they join the t-shirts and his own in the pile next to the bed, scattered like stardust and sewn seeds in the Spring.

Phil’s hips meet Dan’s and he bites a gasp and their hands lace, Phil’s lips on his assuring him it’s right and making it feel like the most perfect dream.   
Their hips roll and each swallow moans and whimpers, and Dan can only manage a small gasp as Phil breaks for air before his lips are back on his, tongues like rocket ships and every word they’ve never managed to say.

“I want you to fuck me until I’ve touched every star in the sky.” He’s breathless and it’s not until Phil kisses a trail down his chest and stomach that Dan’s toes curl and his legs begin to shake, Phil’s lips soft against the inside of his thighs like cosmic stardust.

Phil decides that every flower in the garden is nothing compared to Dan. His name leaving his bitten lips as his breaths are shallow and he’s gripping onto the sheets until his knuckles turn white, coming undone under the pale stars.

“I love you Dan.”

“I love you too. That was-” He doesn’t finish, lips curling into a smile as Phil lays beside him and threads his fingers through his curling-hair.

“It was perfect.” He nods and although the light is dim Phil looks at him with the most adoration and it’s as if he’s the only star in the sky, shining bright and guiding him home.

-

Dan can’t look at the stars the same as he looks at Phil, it’s as if they’ve been made out of paper and they inhabit Phil’s eyes in silver light. The moon doesn’t shine quite right anymore and he thinks Phil’s skin is made out of the palest moonbeams, the most beautiful glittering stardust dots his skin in the form of freckles and each black hole is woven in each strand of hair.   
Phil thinks the flowers look dull in the garden, and that Dan’s skin is the peach in the roses and his eyes are like dark amber in the trees. His laughter is each lily upon an ivy string and the most beautiful snowdrops are nothing compared to the dimples in his cheeks as he smiles or the soft crinkles by the corner of his eyes. It’s perhaps why they’re perfect for each other, and now Dan sees the beauty in ivory azaleas and Phil can see galaxies on Dan’s skin as they kiss under the light glow of the moon with tea in a basket and nostalgia in melodies threaded in their hair and on the tips of their fingers.


End file.
